


There He Is

by Bixiayu



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Cuddling, Date gone right, F/M, First Date, Fluff, Happy Ending, Kid Peter Parker, M/M, Peter is a mess, Snuggling, Teen Harry Osborn, Teen Peter Parker, UNCLE BEN LIVES, caring!Peter, hurt!harry, small angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-30 22:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8551582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bixiayu/pseuds/Bixiayu
Summary: Peter tries to plan the perfect date for Harry, but it doesn't quite go as planned.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy!

“So that's a yes?” Peter asked wide eyed with disbelief.

 

Harry Osborn actually agreed to go on a date with him? Peter Parker?

 

“Pete, this is the third time you've asked me,” Harry says quite unamused. Taking both of Peter's clammy hands in his. “Yes, I said yes.”

 

Peter tried to calm his tense nerves. He was shocked. He and Harry had known each other since they were six, and Peter had a major crush on him since he first laid eyes on him.

 

_Everyone knew it too._

 

Except Harry, he was completely oblivious to Peters gushing. Considering everyone at school was obsessed with him, also.

 

The way his dirty blond hair glistened in the sun like it was a mirror reflecting the rays that sun had to give.

 

And his smile, the one thing about him that anyone would see and immediately fall in love with him.

 

 _Peters number one weakness_.

 

He nodded swiftly, letting a wave of calmness travel from the top of his body to the bottom. He expected to wake up drooling on one of the desks at school, or on his bed at home.

 

 _This had to be a dream_.

 

He actually got Harry Osborn to go on a date? With him?

 

Peter recalls when countless girls _and boys_ , would come up to Harry during school and ask for a date with him.

 

Peter would feel his face becoming hot with jealously that swelled up inside of him. He was envious that they had enough confidence to ask that question.

 

He was also scared that Harry might says yes. But he never did.

 

_Harry politely, rejected every single one, every time._

 

 _“Pete?”_ Harry's worried voice rang through out his ears disrupting his train of thought.

 

He immediately apologizes. “My place at seven?”

 

“Sure,” Harry agrees. He takes his hands out of Peters and slides them into the pocket of his black trench coat.

 

“I'll see you tonight.” He says while turning in the opposite direction to walk to his house.

 

Peter stood there, unable to move. All he could do was stare.

 

Harry threw a smile over his shoulder back at Peter and waved.

 

 _Peters insides melted_.

 

~

 

Peter used his long legs to race home, with a grin plastered on his face.

 

 _He had to make this date perfect_.

 

Peter entered his house, seeing Aunt May and Uncle Ben at the table, reading the newspaper.

 

“Hey!” Peter chimed.

 

“Hey Peter, what's got you in such a good mood?” Uncle Ben smirks.

 

“I've got a date tonight!” Peter says with a matter off act tone.

 

A wide smile grows on Aunt May’s face emphasizing her wrinkles. “Oh Peter!” She exclaimed. “I'm so proud of you!”

 

“Oh finally!” Ben sarcastically sighed. “Then you'll move out!”

 

May slapped him playfully on the shoulder.

 

Peter snickered.

 

“Where is it?” May asked.

 

Shifted his weight. “Here actually..” he hesitated. “That's okay right?”

 

“That's perfect, Peter!” May brought her hands together excitedly. “Ben and I can go out, just like we used to!”

 

Ben grumbled, turning his attention back towards the newspaper. “You better not throw any Parties while we're gone.”

 

“No promises,” Peter jokes, racing up the stairs towards his bedroom.

 

~

 

Peter ran into his room and eyeballed his tiny closet.

 

_He had to wear something nice._

 

He rummages through his endless hoodies and jeans until his gaze finally landed on a shirt that was _decent_ enough.

 

The shirt he chose was a white button down shirt with sleeves that cuffed at his elbows.

 

He then settled on a pair of the darkest pair of blue jeans he owned since he didn't have a pair of black ones.

 

He threw the outfit on his bed lazily.

 

**Jumping into his chair for his computer, he proceeded to do the lamest thing in the history of lame.**

 

_He searches up date ideas._

 

**But it gets lamer.**

 

_For a Pisces male._

 

Peter was completely lost. Of Course he knew Harry for years, but he didn't really know anything about his personality. He was always so conservative, so quiet.

 

_He was a mystery._

 

So this was the closest he would get to know thing about him in such a short amount of time.

 

“Carnivals and romantic comedies followed by candles on the beach..” Peter mumbles quietly to himself. His back arched into the computer screen like he was trying to discover the secrets of the universe.

 

_More like the secrets of Harry Osborn._

 

he didn't have a beach, and he kinda had no money.

 

Well, besides the $12 in his sock drawer.

 

He decided that a dinner and a romantic comedy will have to suffice.

 

Checking the time, he grimaced. He knew he didn't have much time left before Harry came over.

 

**6:02**

He cursed under his breath and ran downstairs to attempt to prepare dinner.

 

~

 

The image he is greeted with when he reaches the living room is his aunt and uncle dressed in fancy attire.

 

He smiles. “You two look nice”

 

“Thank you Peter.” Aunt may says. She examined him up and down as her smile fades.

 

“You're dressing like this?” She questioned.

 

Peter looks down at his jeans and purple tee shirt.

“No, Of Course not.” Peter defended. “I'm just going prepare something...for..you know…”

 

He felt like the more times he mentioned that he was going on a date, he more he would jinx his chances of the date turning out perfectly.

 

Ben laughed. “You can cook?”

 

“Ofcourse I can,” Peter scoffed.

 

_It can't be that hard…._

 

“Since when?” Ben asks.

 

Peter changed the subject, “aren't you guys going to be late?”

 

Ben and May exchanged looks. “Alright we will get out of your hair. Just don't burn the house down.” Ben jokes.

 

“Alright” Peter waves. “Have fun.”

 

They nod as they walk out, leaving Peter alone.

 

~

 

Peter took a good look at his freezer while placing his hands on his hips.

 

He sighed.

 

_He didn't know how to cook._

 

_“Okay,” he thought.“it can't be that hard.”_

 

He pulled a tiny chicken out of the freezer and placed it on a baking tray.

 

He looked on the instructions on how to bake this bird.

 

“Preheat oven to 400F and bake for 2-3 hours.”

 

He groaned. He didn't have that kind of time. It was already **6:32**.

 

He decided to turn the oven to the highest temperature and shove the chicken in, hoping for the best.

 

He trudged over to his pantry. Decided on something simple.

 

 _Pasta_ and tomato sauce.

 

“Alright..” he mumbled.  He grabbed a silver pot from under the cabinet and filled up with water adding the long strands of pasta with the ends sticking out of the pot.

 

He then placed the glass container filled with pasta sauce on the counter as he rushed upstairs.

 

 _Time to get dressed_.

 

~

 

Peter was upstairs when he was getting ready. He put on the dress shirt and dark blue jeans.

 

He checked himself in the mirror, looking at his glasses.

 

_Dirty glasses are a turn off_

 

He cleaned the lenses with his shirt.

 

He could tell just by looking himself, he was tense.

 

He tried shaking his shoulders to relax.

 

_Everything's going to be fine_

 

_Relax_

 

_Everything is going perfect_

 

_Everything is fine-_

 

His thoughts stopped abruptly when his nose picked up the smell of burning.

 

He raced downstairs.

 

And saw smoke coming from the pot of spaghetti.

 

Apparently he didn't add enough water to the pot.

 

All the water evaporated while the bottom of the pot was black with burnt pasta sticking to it, the ends of the pasta were still raw sticking out of the pan.

 

Peter groaned as he immediately took the brunt pasta off of the stove. At least the chicken can't be that bad he thought.

 

_He was wrong_

 

_He opened the oven and almost cried._

 

The sides of the chicken were still slightly tinted pink as the top was scorched black. The black smoke making his eyes water as the smoke was traveling down his throat,  making him cough violently.

 

He grabbed some oven mitts took the chicken’s tray and placed it onto the counter and sighed.

 

He was the _worst_.

 

This couldn't get any worse he thought.

 

It did.

 

_beep_

 

_Beep_

 

_Beep_

 

_Beep_

 

The smoke detector started to go off.

 

He ran to the bathroom and grabbed a towel. Stood on a chair, waving it by the smoke detector, attempting to make the annoying beep shut off.

 

After ten long minutes, most of the smoke cleared up and the detector finally fell silent. Peter jumped down from the chair, sweating. Accidentally knocking the glass container of sauce onto the floor.

 

He saw the glass shatter into several, hazardous, large pieces. The impact of the container causing the red sauce to fly up. Staining peters white shirt.

 

Peter was wide-eyed as he started at his shirt.

 

He look like he just came from a murder scene.

 

_He would have to change._

 

_And fast._

 

He was about to put his foot on the first step when he heard the doorbell ring.

 

_Peter gasped._

 

_Harry was here._

 

Peter ran towards a window and peered out of it.

 

_There he is_

 

Admiring the flowery decor outside of Peter's house.

 

He was wearing a black beanie with the trench coat from earlier, covering dark blue button down dress shirt.

 

_With a single rose in his hand._

 

Peter cursed under his breath as he threw off his shirt. Revealing a black tee shirt underneath.

 

His hands were shaking as he had no choice to go to the door and open it.

 

~

 

Peter slowly opened the door and saw Harry's bright smile.

 

“Hey Pete!” He smiled.

 

_He looked so happy_

 

But he definitely won't when he sees the catastrophe of Peter's kitchen.

 

“Hey Har,” Peter breathes. He slightly painting, flailing your arms in front of a smoke detector for ten minutes really tired someone out.

 

Harry brings his arm up to hand Peter the single red rose. “Sorry I'm late” he begins “but I got this for you.”

 

Peter took the rose.

 

He stared it for a while and internally facepalmed himself.

 

_“Damn it!” Peter thought. “I should've got him flowers.”_

 

“Soo…” Harry drags out. “Are you going to invite me in?”

 

Peter was broken from his train of thought. “Yeah, of course.” He hesitated. He opened the door wider for Harry to walk through.

 

Right in the foyer Peter paused, turning to Harry.

 

He already started taking off his black leather boots and placing them by the doorway.

 

“it's kind of a mess, I tried to cook for you but.. umm it didn't work out”

 

“I'm pretty sure it's not even that bad.” Harry shrugged him off. “You should see my dad’s cooking.”

 

Peter chuckled to hide his disappointment.

 

He lead Harry into the kitchen where the horrific scenery of scorched chicken and pasta with a bloodbath of pasta sauce in front of his eyes.

 

_It was silent for a while._

 

Harry covered his mouth, trying to hide the small smile on his face.

 

He removed then and crossed his arms, “you did all of this for me?!” He exclaimed.

 

“Yeah..” Peter hung his head low in embarrassment. “I tried to.. I'm sorry I ruined out date, I just tried to do something special.”

 

Harry gripped Peter hand and held it in his.

 

“I love what you did for me Pete.” He begins. “But you didn't have to. Pizza and a horror movie would've been fine.”

 

Peter chuckles nervously.

 

“I hope it's not too late to order one.” Peter says.

 

Harry laughed. “I have twenty bucks on me.”

 

“No, it's fine I can pay” Peter offers.

 

“Okay,” Harry eyeballed the kitchen. “I can help you clean up.” He offered.

 

Peter shook his head. “ I can't make you do that.”

 

“But I want to help.” Harry begged. “It's the least I could do.”

 

“Okay.” Peter agreed. “Let me just clear some things in here first.”

 

Harry nodded, looking at Peters couch. “I'll just take a seat here. Let me know when you're ready?”

 

Peter nodded.

 

~

 

Peter had triple checked the kitchen making sure there was no trace of glass left.

 

The last thing he would want is for Harry to impale his foot on a large chunk of glass.

 

“Ok Har! I'm ready.” Peter called.

 

Harry came into the kitchen a couple seconds later with a smile on his face.

 

Peter let a small chuckle escape his lips.

 

_He was adorable._

 

“Can you pass me a towel in the cabinet?” Peter asked.

“It's right by the refrigerator.”

 

Harry nodded as he began walked closer to the fridge.

 

_crunch_

 

Peter hears Harry gasp.

 

“Pete..pete..” Harry called.

 

When Peter turned around he saw Harry bouncing on one foot, waving his hand trying to keep balance on something.

 

Peter ran towards Harry and put one of his arms over his shoulder, letting him use his body for balance.

 

“What happened Harry?” Peter asked worried.

 

“I...I don't know..” Harry whines. “I stepped on something.”

 

They were moving towards the living room as he noticed Harry's foot making a trail of blood as they were walking.

 

He saw Harry squeezing the cushions of the couch while biting his bottom lip.

 

Peter bends down to examine Harry's bloodied foot.

 

_A large shard was shard of glass right in the middle. Blood coating it completely._

 

“How...how bad is it?” Harry whimpers.

 

Peter tried not to sound as worried as he felt. “It's okay.. it's not even that bad.”

 

Harry groaned and let his head plop on the couch. “You're such a terrible liar..” he paused. “What did I step on?”

 

“A piece of glass..” Peters voice shook.

 

_He saw Harry's face go pale._

 

“Okay but don't worry,” Peter offered. “I'm going to get some paper towels and I'm going to get your foot cleaned up.”

 

Harry nodded. “Okay, just don't let me bleed to death..”

 

Peter ran to the kitchen and grabbed a paper towel, a bowl, and a first aid kit they kept in a cabinet under the sink.

 

He went back to Harry's figure, the blood from his foot was beginning to drip onto the carpet. Forming a small puddle.

 

 _“_ I'm..I'm _.._ ” Peter began. “I'm going to take the glass out.”

 

He saw Harry nood weakly, small beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

 

_Peter held his hand._

 

_Harry gave him a reassuring nod._

 

“Do it.” He whispered weakly.

 

Peter's eyes glanced from Harry's eyes to his foot.

 

“On the count of three..” Peter began.. “one.. two… three!”

 

With one yank, Peter ripped the shard of glass from Harry's foot.

 

Harry closed his eyes a whimpered, squeezing Peter's hand tightly.

 

Peter immediately put the broken glass in the bowl as he reached for the damp paper towel. Gently wiping his foot, cleaning up the blood.

 

“Stay with me Har.” Peter soothed. “I'm almost done.”

 

 _Harry nodded_.

 

Peter proceeded to wrap Harry foot with the bandages from the first aid kit.

 

“There.” Peter said. “It's all done.”

 

~

 

Peter and Harry lied on the couch for a while. Peter was still holding his hand as his head was buried in Peter's chest. He had got him some painkillers a while ago, hoping to ease Harry from his pain.

 

“How are you feeling?” Peter asked.

 

Harry tried to adjust his position but he winced as the throbbing sensation in his foot made the pain unbearable.

 

“My foot is still killing me.” Harry whines.

 

“I'm so sorry Harry.” Peter apologizes. “I ruined it.. I ruined our date.”

 

Harry lets out the weakest smile. “You didn't ruin it…” he breathes. “I should've looked where I was going… sorry I made you do this.”

 

“You can't blame yourself for this..” Peter argued. “I should've done a better job checking to make sure all of the glass was cleaned up.”

 

Peter glanced down at Harry and saw him biting his bottom lip. His moist hands tightly pressed against Peters, as his face was still stuck with the pale color form before.

 

“Sorry..sorry.. for getting blood on your carpet.” He whimpers.

 

“Don't worry about it.” Peter says.

 

They both lie in silence for a while as the only sound is Harry’s staggered breathing.

 

 _Harry gets sick of the silence_.

 

“Talk to me.” He whispers.

 

“What do you want me to say?” Peter asked.

 

“Tell me everything.”

 

~

 

They talked for hours, snuggled in each other's arms. Finally getting to know each other, their favorite things, their hobbies.

 

The pain in Harry's foot finally diminished as the medicine finally kicked in.

 

_Peter never knew that Harry's favorite color was green_

 

_And Harry never knew that Peter secretly liked spiders._

 

“How do you like spiders?” Harry asked in disbelief.

“They're so tiny.. and..they're just..”

 

“They're so cool!” Peter exclaimed. “They have such amazing abilities!”

 

Peter embraced his inner nerd and showered Harry with a bunch of facts about spiders.

 

Harry leaned in closer to Peter face.

 

_Their lips grazing over each other's._

 

“You're such a geek.” Harry whispers slowly.

 

Taunting Peter with the sound of his voice.

 

“I guess I am..”

 

_Just kiss him already, Peter thought._

 

_Peter took slow breaths as he gained confidence to give the person he loved a long kiss._

 

Something he had been waiting for his entire life.

 

Peter pulls away as he chuckles nervously. His mind couldn't believe he was actually going to say this. “I’ve..umm..actually had a crush on you for a really long time.”

 

_“Since I first met you.”_

 

Harry lets out an airy laugh. “I know.”

 

Peter tilted his head sideways in confusion. “How?” He exclaimed. “Who told you? I bet Gwen did-”

 

Harry's voice interrupts his.

 

_“Everyone knew, you idiot.”_

 

~

 

Aunt May and Uncle Ben came home to find Peter sleeping on the couch with an unknown figure resting inside of his arms.

 

Harry was buried into Peter's large figure due to their obvious height difference with his injured foot hanging off of the couch.

 

Aunt May tried to hide her squeal and she told Ben to take a picture.

 

He slid his phone out of his pocket and chuckled.

 

“That's my boy..”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comment if you liked it! :)


End file.
